The life after death, and how theosophy unveils it

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UC-NRLF

THE RIDDLE OF LIFE SERIES— No. 2

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THE

LIFE AFTER

DEATH

AND

HOW THEOSOPHY

UNVEILS IT

^

BY

C.

W.|j-.EADBEATER

With an Additional Ct-- -
* ^ Thoughts abe T:itn«js, '
ANNIE BESANT

PRICE 25 CENTS

THE THEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY

OBJECTS

1. — To form a nucleus of the Universal Brotherhood of Hu-
manity, without distinction of race, creed, sex, caste or color.

2. — To encourage the study of comparative religion, philosophy
and science.

3. — To investigate unexplained laws of nature and the powers
latent in man.

The Theasophical Society is composed of students, belonging
to any religion in the world or to none, who are urited by their
approval of the above objects, by their wish to remove religious
antagonisms and to draw together men of good will, whatsoever
their religious opinions, and by their desire to study religious truths
and to share the results of their studies with others. Their bond
of union is not the profession of a common belief, but a common
search and aspiration for Truth. They hold that Truth should be
sought by study, by reflection, by purity of life, by devotion to
high ideals, and they regard Truth as a prize to be striven for, not
as a dogma to be imposed by authority. They consider that belief
should be the result of individual study or intuition, and not its
antecedent, and should rest on knowledge, not on assertion. They
extend tolerance to all, even to the intolerant, not as a privilege
they bestow, but as a duty they perform, and they seek to remove
ignorance, not to punish it. They see every religion as an ex-
pression of the Divine Wisdom, and prefer its study to its con-
demnation, and its practice to proselytism. Peace is their watch-
word, as Truth is their aim.

Theosophy is the body of truths which forms the basis of all
religions, and which cannot be claimed as the exclusive possession
of any. It offers a philosophy which renders life intelligible, and
which demonstrates the justice and the love which guide its evolu-
tion. It puts death in its rightful place, as a recurring incident
in an endless life, opening the gate-way of a fuller and more
radiant existence. It restores to the world the Science of the
Spirit, teaching man to know the Spirit as himself, and the mind
and body as his servants. It illuminates the scriptures and doc-
trines of religions by unveiling their hidden meanings, and thus
justifying them at the bar of intelligence, as they are ever justified
in the eyes of intuition.

Members of the Theosophical Society study these truths, and
Theosophists endeavor to live them. Every one willing to study,
to be tolerant, to aim high, and to work perseveringly, is welcomed
as a member, and it rests with the member to become a true The-
osophist.

ZL, ' » )

TKE MIDDLE OF LIFE SEilES-^Noi e' >,,:',,, :

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

AND HOW THEOSOPHY
UNVEILS IT

By C. W. JjEADBEATER

4r /

WITH AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER
ON "THOUGHTS ARE THINGS,"
By Annie Besant

Theosophical Publishing House

Krotona
Hollywood, Los Angeles, Cal.

Beprinted 1918

PUBLISHER'S NOTE.

The following chapters are reprinted, with kind
permission, from pamphlets issued by The Theosophical
Publishing Committee, of Harrogate, and from an article
in Lucifer for September, 1896. The reception given to
the first of this Series, ' ' The Eiddle of Life, ' ' of which
30,000 copies have now been printed, leads us to think that
the present booklet, which gives a rational picture of the
actual facts of the after life, will be warmly welcomed.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Is There Any Certain Knowledge? 1

IL The True Facts 5

III. Purgatory 10

IV. The Heaven-World 19

V. Many Mansions 26

VI. Our Friends in Heaven. 31

VII. Guardian Angels 37

VIII. Human Workers in the Unseen 43

IX. Helping the Dead 49

X. Thoughts are Things 53

490.270

ILLUSTRATIONS

NO. PAGE

i. A Noble Thought Frontispiece

ii. Devotional Feeling 12

iii. Intense Devotion 12

iv. Affection 28

V. Deep Love 28

vi. Pure Eeason 44

vii. Ambition 44

CHAPTER I.

IS THERE ANY CERTAIN KNOWLEDGE?

This subject of life after death is one of great inter-
est to all of us, not only because we ourselves must cer-
tainly one day die, but far more because there can
scarcely be any one among us, except perhaps the very
young, who has not lost (as we call it) by death some
one or more of those who are near and dear to us. So if
there be any information available with regard to the
life after death, we are naturally very anxious to have it.

But the first thought which arises in the mind of the
man who sees such a title as this is usually ^*Can any-
thing be certainly known as to life after death?" We
have all had various theories put before us on the sub-
ject by the various religious bodies, and yet even the
most devoted followers of these sects seem hardly to be-
lieve their teachings about this matter, for they still
speak of death as *^the king of terrors," and seem to
regard the whole question as surrounded by mystery
and horror. They may use the term ^^ falling asleep in
Jesus," but they still employ the black dresses and
plumes, the horrible crepe and the odious black-edged
note-paper, they still surround death with all the trap-
pings of woe, and with everything calculated to make it
seem darker and more terrible. We have an evil hered-
ity behind us in this matter; we have inherited these
funereal horrors from our forefathers, and so we are
used to them, and do not see the absurdity and mon-
strosity of it all. The ancients wei*e in this respect wiser
than we, for they did not associate all these nightmares
of gloom with the death of the body — partly perhaps
because they had a so much more rational method of
disposing of the body — a method which was not only

<\: THB ill^E : AFTER DEATH

infiiiil!e|y; tetter f or t]|^\(iea(} man and more healthy for
the living, but was also free from the gruesome sug-
gestions connected with slow decay. The'y knew much
more about death in those days, and because they knew
more they mourned less.

The first thing that we must realize about death is
that it is a perfectly natural incident in the course of
our life. That ought to be obvious to us from the first,
because if we believe at all in a God who is a loving
Father we should know that a fate which, like death,
comes to all alike, cannot have in it aught of evil to any,
and that whether we are in this world or the next we
must be equally safe in His hands. This consideration
alone should have shown us that death is not something
to be dreaded, but simply a necessary step in our evolu-
tion. It ought not to be necessary for Theosophy to
come among Christian nations and teach that death is
a friend and not an enemy, and it would not be necessary
if Christianity had not so largely forgotten its own best
traditions. It has come to regard the grave as **the
bourne from which no traveller returns, '^ and the pas-
sage into it as a leap in the dark, into some awful un-
known void. On this point, as on many others, Theoso-
phy has a gospel for the western world; it has to an-
nounce that there is no gloomy impenetrable abyss be-
yond the grave, but instead a world of light and life,
which may be known to us as clearly and fully and ac-
curately as the streets of our own city. We have created
the gloom and the horror for ourselves, like children
who frighten themselves with ghastly stories, and we
have only to study the facts of the case, and all these
artificial clouds will roll away at once. Death is no
darksome king of terrors, no skeleton with a scythe to
cut short the thread of life, but rather an angel bearing
a golden key, with which he unlocks for us the door into
a fuller and higher life than this.

But men will naturally say ^^This is very beautiful
and poetical, but how can we certainly know that it is

IS THERE ANY CERTAIN KNOWLEDGE?

really so?" You may know it in many ways; there is
plenty of evidence ready to the hand of any one who will
take the trouble to gather it together. Shakespeare's
statement is really a remarkable one when we consider
that ever since the dawn of history, and in every country
of which we know anything, travellers have always been
returning from that bourne, and showing themselves to
their fellow-men. There is any amount of evidence for
such apparitions, as they have been called. At one time
it was fashionable to ridicule all such stories; now it is
no longer so, since scientitic men like Sir William
Crookes, the discoverer of the metal thallium and the
inventor of Crooke's radiometer; and Sir Oliver Lodge,
the great electrician, and eminent public men like Mr.
Balfour, the late Premier of England, have joined and
actively worked with a society instituted for the investi-
gation of such phenomena. Read the reports of the work
of that Society for Psychical Research, and you will see
something of the testimony which exists as to the return
of the dead. Read books like Mr. Stead's **Real Ghost
Stories," or Camille Flammarion's ^^L'lnconnu," and
you will find there plenty of accounts of apparitions,
showing themselves not centuries ago in some far-away
land, but here and now among ourselves, to persons still
living, who can be questioned and can testify to the
reality of their experiences.

Another line of testimony to the life after death is
the study of Modern Spiritualism. I know that many
people think that there is nothing to be found along
that line but fraud and deception ; but I can myself bear
personal witness that this is not so. Fraud and decep-
tion there may have been — nay, there has been — in cer-
tain cases ; but nevertheless I fearlessly assert that there
are great truths behind, which may be discovered by any
man who is willing to devote the necessary time and pa-
tience to their unfolding. Here again there is a vast
literature to be studied, or the man who prefers it may
make his investigations for himself at first-hand as I did.

THE LIFE AFTEB DEATH

Many men may not be willing to take that trouble or
to devote so much time; very well, that is their affair,
but unless they will examine, they have no right to scoff
at those who have seen, and therefore know that these
things are true.

A third line of evidence, which is the one most con-
mending itself to Theosophical students, is that of di-
rect investigation. Every man has within himself latent
faculties, undeveloped senses, by means of which the
unseen world can be directly cognized, and to any one
who will take the trouble to evolve these powers the
whole world beyond the grave will lie open as the day.
A good many Theosophical students have already un-
folded these inner senses, and it is the evidence thus ob-
tained that I wish to lay before you. I know very well
that this is a considerable claim to make — a claim which
would not be made by any minister of any church when
he gave you his version of the states after death. He
will say, ' ^ The church teaches this, ' ' or * ^ The Bible tells
us so," but he will never say, ^^I who speak to you, I
myself have seen this, and know it to be true." But in
Theosophy we are able to say to you quite definitely that
many of us know personally that of which we speak, for
we are dealing with a definite series of facts which we
have investigated, and which you yourselves may inves-
tigate in turn. "We offer you what we know, yet we say
to you ^^ Unless this commends itself to you as utterly
reasonable, do not rest contented with our assertion;
look into these things for yourselves as fully as you can,
and then you will be in a position to speak to others as
authoritatively as we do, ' ' But what are the facts which
are disclosed to us by these investigations?

CHAPTER II.

THE TRUE FACTS.

The state of affairs found as actually existing is much
more rational than most of the current theories. It is
not found that any sudden change takes place in man at
death, or that he is spirited away to some heaven beyond
the stars. On the contrary man remains after death
exactly what he was before it — the same in inteEect, the
same in his qualities and powers; and the conditions in
which he finds himself are those which his own thoughts
and desires have already created for him. There is no
reward or punishment from outside, but only the actual
result of what the man himself has done and said and
thought while here on earth. In fact, the man makes his
bed during earth-life and afterwards he has to lie on it.

This is the first and most prominent fact — that we
have not here a strange new life, but a continuation of
the present one. We are not separated from the dead,
for they are here about us all the time. The only sepa-
ration is the limitation of our consciousness, so that we
have lost, not our loved ones, but the power to see them.
It is quite possible for us so to raise our consciousness,
that we can see them and talk with them as before, and
all of us constantly do that, though we only rarely re-
member it fully. A man may learn to focus his con-
sciousness in his astral body while his physical body is
still awake, but that needs special development, and in the
case of the average man would take much time. But dur-
ing the sleep of his physical body every man uses his
astral vehicle to a greater or less extent, and in that way
we are daily with our departed friends. Sometimes we
have a partial remembrance of meeting them, and then
we say we have dreamt of them; more frequently we

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

have no recollection of such encounters and remain
ignorant that they have taken place. Yet it is a definite
fact that the ties of affection are still as strong as ever,
and so the moment the man is freed from the chains of
his physical encasement he naturally seeks the company
of those whom he loves. So that in truth the only
change is that he spends the night with them instead of
the day, and he is conscious of them astrally instead of
physically.

The bringing through of the memory from the astral
plane to the physical is another and quite separate con-
sideration, which in no way affects our consciousness on
that other plane, nor our ability to function upon it with
perfect ease and freedom. Whether you recollect them
or not, they are still living their life close to you, and
the only difference is that they have taken off this robe
of flesh which we call the body. That makes no change
in them, any more than it makes a change in your per-
sonality when you remove your overcoat. You are
somewhat freer, indeed, because you have less weight to
carry, and precisely the same is the case with them. The
man's passions, affections, emotions, and intellect are
not in the least affected when he died, for none of these
belong to the physical body which he has laid aside. He
has dropped this vesture and is living in another, but he
is still able to think and to feel just as before.

I know how difficult it is for the average mind to
grasp the reality of that which we cannot see with our
physical eyes. It is very hard for us to realize how very
partial our sight is — to understand that we are living in
a vast world of which we see only a tiny partX Yet
science tells us with no uncertain voice that this is so,
for it describes to us whole worlds of minute life of
whose very existence we should be entirely ignorant as
far as our senses are concerned. Nor are the creatures
of those worlds unimportant because minute, for upon a
knowledge of the condition and habits of some of those
microbes depends our ability to preserve health, and in

6

THE TEUE FACTS.

many cases life itself. But our senses are limited in
another direction. We cannot see the very air that sur-
rounds us ; our senses would give us no indication of its
existence, except that when it is in motion we are aware
of it by the sense of touch. Yet in it there is a force
that can wreck our mightiest vessels and throw down
our strongest buildings. You see how all about us there
are mighty forces which yet elude our poor and partial
senses; so obviously we must beware of falling into the
fatally common error of supposing that what we see is
all there is to see.

We are, as it were, shut up in a tower, and our senses
are tiny windows opening out in certain directions. In
many other directions we are entirely shut in, but clair-
voyance or astral sight opens for us one or two addition-
al windows, and so enlarges our prospect, and spreads
before us a new and wider world, which is yet part of
the old one, though before we did not know of it.

Looking out into this new world, what should we
first see? Supposing that one of us transferred his con-
sciousness to the astral plane, what changes would be the
first to strike him? To the first glance there would
probably be very little difference, and he would suppose
himself to be looking upon the same world as before.
Let me explain, to you why this is so — partially at least,
for to explain fully would need a whole treatise upon
astral physics* Just as we have different conditions of
matter here, the solid, the liquid, the gaseous, so are there
different conditions or degrees of density of astral mat-
ter, and each degree is attracted by and corresponds to
that which is similar to it on the physical plane. So that
your friend would still see the walls and the furniture
to which he was accustomed, for though the physical
matter of which they are composed would no longer be
visible to him, the densest type of astral matter would
still outline them for him as clearly as ever. True, if

^Fuller details on this may be found in my ''The Other Side of
Death.''.

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

he examined the object closely he would perceive that
all the particles were visibly in rapid motion, instead of
only invisibly, as is the case on this plane ; but very few
men do observe closely, and so a man who dies often does
not know at first that any change has come over him.

He looks about him, and sees the same rooms with
which he is familiar, peoplejvstill by those whom he has
known and loved — for they also have astral bodies, which
are within the range of his new vision. Only by degrees
does he realize that in some ways there is a difference.
For example, he soon finds that for him all pain and
fatigue have passed away. If you can at all realize
what that means, you will begin to have some idea of
what the higher life truly is. Think of it, you who have
scarcely ever a comfortable moment, you who in the
stress of your busy life can hardly remember when you
last felt free from fatigue ; what would it be to you never
again to know the meaning of the words weariness and
pain? We have so mismanaged our teaching in these
western countries on the subject of immortality that
usually a dead man finds it difficult to believe that he is
dead, simply because he still sees and hears, thinks and
feels. ^^I am not dead,'' he will often say, **I am alive
as much as ever, and better than I ever was before."
Of course he is; but that is exactly what he ought to
have expected, if he had been properly taught.

Realization may perhaps come to him in this way.
He sees his friends about him, but he soon discovers that
he cannot always communicate with them. Sometimes
he speaks to them, and they do not seem to hear; he
tries to touch them, and finds that he can make no im-
pression upon them. Even then, for some time he per-
suades himself that he is dreaming, and will presently
awake, for at other times (when they are what we call
asleep) his friends are perfectly conscious of him, and
talk with him as of old. But gradually he discovers the
fact that he is after all dead, and then he usually begins
to become uneasy. Why? Again because of the defec-

8

THE TRUE FACTS.

tive teaching which he has received. He does not under-
stand where he is, or what has happened, since his situa-
tion is not what he expected from the orthodox stand-
point. As an English general once said on this occas-
ion, **But if I am dead, where am I? If this is heaven
I don't think much of it; and if it is hell, it is better
than I expected!"

CHAPTER m.

PURGATORY.

A great deal of totally unnecessary uneasiness and
even acute suffering has been caused by those who still
continue to teach the world silly fables about non-exis-
tent bugbears instead of using reason and common sense.
The baseless and blasphemous hell-fire theory has done
more harm than even its promoters know, for it has
worked evil beyond the grave as well as on this side. But
presently the *^dead^' man will meet with some other
dead person who has been more sensibly instructed, and
will learn from him that there is no cause for fear, and
that there is a rational life to be lived in this new world
just as there was in the old one.

He will find by degrees that there is very much that
is new as well as much that is a counterpart of that
which he already knows; for in this astral world
thoughts and desires express themselves in visible forms,
though these are composed mostly of the finer matter of
the plane. As his astral life proceeds, these become more
and more prominent, for we must remember that he is
all the while steadily withdrawing further and further
into himself. The entire period of an incarnation is in
reality occupied by the ego in first putting himself forth
into matter, and then in drawing back again with the
results of his effort. If the ordinary man were asked to
draw a line symbolical of life, he would probably make
it a straight one, beginning at birth and ending at death ;
but the Theosophical student should rather represent
the life as a great ellipse, starting from the ego on the
higher mental level and returning to him. The line
would descend into the lower part of the mental plane,
and then into the astral. A very small portion, compara-

10

PUEGATOEY.

tively, at the bottom of the ellipse, would be upon the
physical plane, and the line would very soon reascend
into the astral and mental planes. The physical life
would therefore be represented only by that small por-
tion of the curve which lay below the line which indi-
cated the boundary between the astral and physical
planes, and birth and death would simply be the points
at which the curve crossed that line — obviously by no
means the most important points of the whole.

The real central point would clearly be that furthest
removed from the ego — the turning point, as it were —
what in astronomy we should call the aphelion. That is
neither birth nor death, but should be a middle point in
the physical life, when the force from the ego has ex-
pended its outward rush, and turns to begin the long
process of withdrawal. Gradually his thoughts should
turn upward, he cares less and less for merely physical
matters, and presently he drops the dense body alto-
gether. His life on the astral plane commences, but dur-
ing the whole of it the process of withdrawal continues.
The result of this is that as time passes he pays less and
less attention to the lower matter of which counterparts
of physical objects are composed, and is more and more
occupied with that higher matter of which thought-
forms are built — so far, that is, as thought-forms appear
on the astral plane at all. So his life becomes more and
more a life in a world of thought, and the counterpart
of the world which he has left fades from his view, not
that he has changed his location in space, but that his
interest is shifting its center. His desires still persist,
and the forms surrounding him will be very largely the
expression of these desires, and whether his life is one of
happiness or discomfort will depend chiefly upon the
nature of these.

A study of this astral life shows us very clearly the
reason for many ethical precepts. Most men recognize
that sins which injure others are definitely and obviously
wrong ; but they sometimes wonder why it should be said

11

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

to be wrong for them to feel jealousy, or hatred, or am-
bition, so long as they do not allow themselves to mani-
fest these feelings outwardly in deed or in speech. A
glimpse at this after-world shows us exactly how such
feelings injure the man who harbors them, and how
they would cause him suffering of the most acute char-
acter after his death. We shall understand this better
if we examine a few typical cases of astral life, and see
what their principal characteristics will be.

Let us think first of the ordinary colorless man, who
is neither specially good, nor specially bad, nor indeed
specially anything in particular. The man is in no way
changed, so colorlessness will remain his principal char-
acteristic (if we can call it one) after his death. He will
have no special suffering and no special joy, and may
very probably find astral life rather dull, because he has
not during his time on earth developed any rational
interests. If he has had no ideas beyond gossip or what
is called sport, or nothing beyond his business or his
dress, he is likely to find time hang heavy on his hands
when all such things are no longer possible. But the
case of a man who has had strong desires of a low mate-
rial type, such as could be satisfied only on the physical
plane, is an even worse one. Think of the case of the
drunkard or the sensualist. He has been the slave of
overmastering craving during earth-life, and it still re-
mains undiminished after death — rather, it is stronger
than ever, since its vibrations have no longer the heavy
physical particles to set in motion. But the possibility
of gratifying this terrible thirst is for ever removed,
because the body, through which alone it could be satis-
fied, is gone. We see that the fires of purgatory are no
inapt symbols for the vibrations of such a torturing de-
sire as this. It may endure for a quite long time, since
it passes only by gradually wearing itself out, and the
man's fate is undoubtedly a terrible one. Yet there are
two points that we should bear in mind in considering
it. First, the man has made it absolutely for himself,

12

Fig. 2.

Fig. 3.

PUEGATORY.

and determined the exact degree of its power and its
duration. If he had controlled that desire during life
there would have been just so much the less of it to
trouble him after death. Secondly, it is the only way
in which he can get rid of the vice. If he could pass
from a life of sensuality and drunkenness directly into
his next incarnation, he would be born a slave to his vice
— it would dominate him from the beginning, and there
would be for him no possibility of escape. But now that
the desire has worn itself out, he will begin his new
career without that burden, and the soul, having had so
severe a lesson, will make every possible effort to re-
strain its lower vehicles from repeating such a mistake.
All this was known to the world even as lately as
classical times. "We see it clearly imaged for us in the
myth of Tantalus, who suffered always with raging
thirst, yet was doomed for ever to see the water recede
just as it was about to touch his lips. Many another sin
produces its result in a manner just as gruesome, al-
though each is peculiar to itself. See how the miser will
suffer when he can no longer hoard his gold, when he
perhaps knows that it is being spent by alien hands.
Think how the jealous man will continue to suffer from
his jealousy, knowing that he has now no power to inter-
fere upon the physical plane, yet feeling more strongly
than ever. Remember the fate of Sisyphus in Greek
myth — how he was condemned forever to roll a heavy
rock up to the summit of a mountain, only to see it roll
down again the moment that success seemed within his
reach. See how exactly this typified the after-life of the
man of worldly ambition. He has all his life been in
the habit of forming selfish plans, and therefore he con-
tinues to do so in the astral world; he carefully builds
up his plot until it is perfect in his mind, and only then
realizes that he has lost the physical body which is neces-
sary for its achievement. Down fall his hopes ; yet so in-
grained is the habit that he continues again and again
to roll the same stone up the same mountain of ambition,

13

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

until the vice is worn out. Then at last he realizes that
he need not roll his rock, and lets it rest in peace at the
bottom of the hill.

.We have considered the case of the ordinary man,
and of the man who dii3Pers from the ordinary because
of his gross and selfish desires. Now let us examine the
case of the man who differs from the ordinary in the
other direction — who has some interests of a rational
nature. In order to understand how the after-life ap-
pears to him, we must bear in mind that the majority
of men spend the greater part of their waking life and
most of their strength in work that they do not really
like, that they would not do at all if it were not necessary
in order to earn their living, or support those who are de-
pendent upon them. Kealize the condition of the man
when all necessity for this grinding toil is over, when it
is no longer needful to earn a living, since the astral
body requires no food nor clothing nor lodging. Then
for the first time since earliest childhood that man is
free to do precisely what he likes, and can devote his
whole time to whatever may be his chosen occupation —
so long, that is, as it is of such a nature as to be capable
of realization without physical matter. Suppose that a
man 's greatest delight is in music ; upon the astral plane
he has the opportunity of listening to all the grandest
music that earth can produce, and is even able under
these new conditions to hear far more in it than before,
since here other and fuller harmonies than our dull ears
can grasp are now within his reach. The man whose de-
light is in art, who loves beauty in form and color, has
all the loveliness of this higher world before him from
which to choose. If his delight is in beauty in Nature, he
has unequalled possibilities for indulging it; for he can
readily and rapidly move from place to place, and enjoy
in quick succession wonders of Nature which the physical
man would need years to visit. If his fancy turns to-
wards science or history, the libraries and the labora-
tories of the world are at his disposal, and his compre-

14

PURGATORY.

hension of processes in chemistry and biology would be
far fuller than ever before, for now he could see the
inner as well as the outer workings, and many of the
causes as well as the effects. And in all these cases there
is the wonderful additional delight that no fatigue is
possible. Here we know how constantly, when we are
making some progress in our studies or our experiments,
we are unable to carry them on because our brain will
not bear more than a certain amount of strain; outside
of the physical no fatigue seems to exist, for it is in
reality the brain and not the mind that tires.

All this time I have been speaking of mere selfish
gratification, even though it be of the rational and intel-
lectual kind. But there are those among us who would
not be satisfied without something higher than this—
whose greatest joy in any life would consist in serving
their fellow-men. What has the astral life in store for
them? They will pursue their philanthropy more vigo-
rously than ever, and under better conditions than on
this lower plane. There are thousands whom they can
help, and with far greater certainty of really being able
to do good than we usually attain in this life. Some
devote themselves thus to the general good; some are
especially occupied with cases among their own family
or friends, either living or dead. It is a strange inver-
sion of the facts, this employment of those words living
and dead ; for surely we are the dead, we who are buried
in these gross, cramping physical bodies; and they are
truly the living, who are so much freer and more capa-
.ble, because less hampered. Often the mother who has
passed into that higher life will still watch over her
child, and be to him a veritable guardian angel; often
the ^'dead'^ husband still remains within reach, and in
touch with his sorrowing wife, thankful if even now and
then he is able to make her feel that he lives in strength
and love beside her as of yore.

If all this be so, you may think, then surely the sooner
we die the better ; such knowledge seems almost to place

15

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

a premium on suicide! If you are thinking solely of
yourself and of your pleasure, then emphatically that
would be so. But if you think of your duty towards
God and towards your fellows, then you will at once
see that this consideration is negatived. You are here
for a purpose — a purpose which can only be attained
upon this physical plane. The soul has to take much
trouble to go through much limitation, in order to gain
this earthly incarnation, and therefore its efforts must
not be thrown away unnecessarily. The instinct of self-
preservation is divinely implanted in our breasts, and
it is our duty to make the most of this earthly life
which is ours, and to retain it as long as circumstances
permit. There are lessons to be learnt on this plane
which cannot be learnt anywhere else, and the sooner
we learn them the sooner we shall be free for ever from
the need of return to this lower and more limited life.
So none must dare to die until his time comes, though
when it does come he may well rejoice, for indeed he is
about to pass from labor to refreshment. Yet all this
which I have told you now is insignificant beside the
glory of the life which follows it — the life of the heaven-
world. This is the purgatory — that is the endless bliss
of which monks have dreamed and poets sung — not a
dream after all, but a living and glorious reality. The
astral life is happy for some, unhappy for others, accord-
ing to the preparation they have made for it; but what
follows it is perfect happiness for all, and exactly suited
to the needs of each.

Before closing this chapter let us consider one or two
questions which are perpetually recurring to the minds
of those who seek information about the next life. Shall
we be able to make progress there, some will ask? Un-
doubtedly, for progress is the rule of the Divine
Scheme. It is possible to us just in proportion to our
development. The man who is a slave to desire can only
progress by wearing out his desire ; still, that is the best
that is possible at his stage. But the man who is kindly

16

PUEGATORY.

and helpful learns much in many ways through the
work which he is able to do in that astral life; he will
return to earth with many additional powers and qual-
ities because of the practice he has had in unselfish ef-
fort. So we need have no fear as to this question of
progress.

Another point often raised is, shall we recognize our
loved ones who have passed on before us ? Assuredly we
shall, for neither they nor we shall be changed; why,,
then, should we not recognize them? The attraction is
still there, and will act as a magnet to draw together
those who feel it, more readily and more surely there
than here. True, that if the loved one has left this earth
very long ago, he may have already passed beyond the
astral plane, and entered the heaven-life; in that case
we must wait until we also reach that level before we
can rejoin him, but when that is gained we shall possess
our friend more perfectly than in this prison-house we
can ever realize. But of this be sure, that those whom
you have loved are not lost ; if they have died recently,
then you will find them on the astral plane; if they
have died long ago, you will find them in the heaven-
life, but in any case the reunion is sure where the af-
fection exists. For love is one of the mightiest powers
of the universe, whether it be in life or in death.

There is an infinity of interesting information to be
given about this higher life. You should read the liter-
ature; read Mrs. Besant's '^ Death and After," and my
own books on ^^The AstraLi'lane, ' ' and "The Other Side
of Death." It is very well worth your while to study
tliis subject, for the knowledge of the truth takes away
all fear of death, and makes life easier to live, because
we understand its object and its end. Death brings no
suffering, but only joy, for those who live the true, the
unselfish life. The old Latin saying is literally true —
Mors janua vitae — death is the gate of life. That is ex-
actly what it is — a gate into a fuller and higher life.
On the other side of the grave, as well as on this, prevails;

17

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

the great law of Divine Justice, and we can trust as im-
plicity there as here to the action of that law, with re-
gard both to ourselves and to those we love.

18

CHAPTER IV.

THE HEAVEN-WORLD

All religions agree in declaring the existence of
heaven, and in stating that the enjoyment of its bliss
follows upon a well-spent earthly life. Christianity and
Mohammedanism speak of it as a reward assigned by
God to those who have pleased Him, but most other
faiths describe it rather as the necessary result of the
good life, exactly as we should from the Theosophical
point of view. Yet though all religions agree in painting
this happy life in glowing terms, none of them have
succeeded in producing an impression of reality in their
descriptions. All that is written about heaven is so
absolutely unlike anything that we have known, that
many of the descriptions seem almost grotesque to us.
We should hesitate to admit this with regard to the
legends familiar to us from our infancy, but if the
stories of one of the other great religions were read to us,
we should see it readily enough. In Buddhist or Hindu
books you will find magniloquent accounts of intermin-
able gardens, in which the trees are all of gold and silver,
and their fruits of various kinds of jewels, and you
might be tempted to smile, unless the thought occurred
to you that after all, to the Buddhist or Hindu our tales
of streets of gold and gates of pearl might in truth seem
quite as improbable. The fact is that the ridiculous ele-
ment is imported into these accounts only when we take
them literally, and fail to realize that each scribe is try-
ing the same task from his point of view, and that all
alike are failing because the great truth behind it all is;

19

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

utterly indescribable. The Hindu writer had no doubt
seen some of the gorgeous gardens of the Indian kings,
where just such decorations as he describes are com-
monly employed. The Jewish scribe had no familiarity
with such things, but he dwelt in a great and magnificent
city — probably Alexandria; and so his conception of
splendor was a city, but made unlike anything on earth
by the costliness of its material and its decorations. So
each is trying to paint a truth which is too grand for
words by employing such similes as are familiar to his
mind.

There have been those since that day who have seen
the glory of heaven, and have tried in their feeble way
to describe it. Some of our own students have been
among these, and in the Theosophical Manual No. 6*
you may find an effort of my own in that direction. We
do not speak now of gold and silver, of rubies and dia-
monds, when we wish to convey the idea of the greatest
possible refinement and beauty of color and form; we
draw our similes rather from the colors of the sunset,
and from all the glories of sea and sky, because to us
these are the more heavenly. Yet those of us who have
seen the truth know well that in all our attempts at
description we have failed as utterly as the Oriental
scribes to convey any idea of a reality which no words
can ever picture, though every man one day shall see
it and know it for himself.

For this heaven is not a dream; it is a radiant real-
ity; but to comprehend anything of it we must first
change one of our initial ideas on the subject. Heaven
is not a place, but a state of consciousness. If you ask
me *' Where is heaven?" I must answer you that it is
here — round you at this very moment, near to you as
the air you breathe. The light is all about you, as the
Buddha said so long ago; you have only to cast the
bandage from your eyes and look. But what is this cast-
ing away of a bandage? Of what is it symbolical? It

* ' ^ The Devachanic Plane, or the Heaven-World. ^ ^

20

THE HEAVEN- WORLD.

is simply a question of raising the consciousness to a
higher level, of learning to focus it in the vehicle of
finer matter. I have already spoken of the possibility
of doing this with regard to the astral body, thereby
seeing the astral world; this needs simply a further
stage of the same process, the raising of the conscious-
ness to the mental plane, for man has a body for that
level also, through which he may receive its vibrations,
and so live in the glowing splendor of heaven while
still possessing a physical body — though indeed after
such an experience he will have little relish for the
return to the latter.

The ordinary man reaches this state of bliss only
after death, and not immediately after it except in very
rare cases. I have explained how after death the Ego
steadily withdrew into himself. The whole astral life is
in fact a constant process of withdrawal, and when in
course of time the soul reaches the limit of that plane,
he dies to it in just the same way as he did to the physical
plane. That is to say, he casts off the body of that plane,
and leaves it behind him while he passes on to higher and
still fuller life. No pain or suffering of any kind pre-
cedes this second death, but just as with the first, there
is usually a period of unconsciousness, from which the
man awakes gradually. Some years ago I wrote a book
called ^^The Devachanic Plane,'' in which I endeavored
to some extent to describe what he would see, and to
tabulate as far as I could the various subdivisions of
this glorious Land of Light, giving instances which had
been observed in the course of our investigations in con-
nection with this heaven-life. For the moment I shall
try to put the matter before you from another point of
view, and those who wish may supplement the informa-
tion by reading the book as well.

Perhaps the most comprehensive opening statement
is that this is the plane of the Divine mind, that here we
are in the very realm of thought itself, and that every-
thing that man possibly could think is here in vivid living

21

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

reality. We labor under a great disadvantage from our
habit of regarding material things as real, and those
which are not material as dream-like and therefore un-
real; whereas the fact is that everything which is ma-
terial is buried and hidden in this matter, and so what-
ever of reality it may possess is far less obvious and
recognizable than it would be when regarded from a
higher standpoint. So that when we hear of a world of
thought, we immediately think of an unreal world, built
out of ^^such stuff as dreams are made of,'' as the poet
says.

Try to realize that when a man leaves his physical
body and opens his consciousness to astral life, his first
sensation is of the intense vividness and reality of that
life, so that he thinks *'Now for the first time I know
what it is to live. ' ' But when in turn he leaves that life
for the higher one, he exactly repeats the same experi-
ence, for this life is in turn so much fuller and wider
and more intense than the astral that once more no
comparison is possible. And yet there is another life
yet, beyond all this, unto which even this is but as moon-
light unto sunlight; but it is useless at present to think
of that.

There may be many to whom it sounds absurd that
a realm of thought should be more real than the physi-
cal world; well, it must remain so for them until they
have some experience of a life higher than this, and then
in one moment they will know far more than any words
can ever tell them.

On this plane, then, we find existing the infinite ful-
ness of the Divine Mind, open in all its limitless affluence
to every soul, just in proportion as that soul has qualified
himself to receive. If man had already completed his
destined evolution, if he had fully realized and unfolded
the divinity whose germ is within him, the whole of this
glory would be within his reach; but since none of us
has yet done that, since we are only gradually rising
towards that splendid consummation, it comes that none

22

THE HEAVEN-WORLD.

as yet can grasp that entirely, but each draws from it
and cognizes only so much as he has by previous effort
prepared himself to take. Different individuals bring
very different capabilities; as the Eastern simile has it,
each man brings his own cup, and some of the cups are
large and some are small, but, small or large, every cup
is filled to its utmost capacity ; the sea of bliss holds far
more than enough for all.

All religions have spoken of this bliss of heaven, yet
few of them have put before us with suffiicient clearness
and precision this leading idea which alone explains ra-
tionally how for all alike such bliss is possible — which is,
indeed, the key-note of the conception — the fact that
each man makes his own heaven by selection from the in-
effable splendors of the Thought of God Himself. A
man decides for himself both the length and character
of his heaven-life by the causes which he himself gener-
ates during his earth-life ; therefore he cannot but have
exactly the amount which he has deserved, and exactly
the quality of joy which is best suited to his idiosyn-
crasies, for this is a world in which every being must,
from the very fact of his consciousness there, be enjoying
the highest spiritual bliss of which he is capable — a
world whose power of response to his aspirations is
limited only by his capacity to aspire.

He had made himself an astral body by his desires and
passions during earth-life, and he had to live in it dur-
ing his astral existence, and that time was happy or
miserable for him according to its character. Now this
time of purgatory is over, for that lower part of his
nature has burnt itself away ; now there remain only the
higher and more refined thoughts, the noble and unselfish
aspirations that he poured out during earth-life. These
cluster round him, and make a sort of shell about him,
through the medium of which he is able to respond to
certain types of vibration in this refined matter. These
thoughts which surround him are the powers by which
he draws upon the wealth of the heaven-world, and he

23

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

finds it to be a storehouse of infinite extent upon which
he is able to draw just according to the power of those
thoughts and aspirations which he generated in the
physical and astral life. All the highest of his affection
and his devotion is now producing its results, for there
is nothing else left; all that was selfish or grasping has
been left behind in the plane of desire.

For there are two kinds of affection. There is one,
hardly worthy of so sublime a name, which thinks al-
ways of how much love it is receiving in return for its
investment of attachment, which is ever worrying as to
the exact amount of affection which the other person is
showing for it, and so is constantly entangled in the evil
meshes of jealousy and suspicion. Such feeling, grasp-
ing and full of greed, will work out its results of doubt
and misery upon the plane of desire, to which it so clear-
ly belongs. But there is another kind of love, which
never stays to think how much it is loved, but has only
the one object of pouring itself out unreservedly at the
feet of the object of its affection, and considers only how
best it can express in action the feeling which fills its
heart so utterly. Here there is no limitation, because
there is no grasping, no drawing towards the self, no
thought of return, and just because of that there is a
tremendous outpouring of force, which no astral matter
could express, nor could the dimensions of the astral
plane contain it. It needs the finer matter and the wider
space of the higher level, and so the energy generated
belongs to the mental world. Just so there is a religious
devotion which thinks mainly of what it will get for its
prayers, and lowers its worship into a species of bargain-
ing ; while there is also a genuine devotion, which forgets
itself absolutely in the contemplation of its deity. We
all know well that in our highest devotion there is
something which has never yet been satisfied, that our
grandest aspirations have never yet been realized, that
when we really love unselfishly, our feeling is far beyond
all power of expression on this physical plane, that the

24

THE HEAVEN-WORLD.

profound emotion stirred within our hearts by the
noblest music or the most perfect art reaches to heights
and depths unknown to this dull earth. Yet all this is
a wondrous force of power beyond our calculation, and it
must produce its result somewhere, somehow, for the law
of the conservation of energy holds good upon the higher
planes of thought and aspiration just as surely as in
ordinary mechanics. But since it must react upon him
who set it in motion, and yet it cannot work upon the
physical plane because of its narrowness and compara-
tive grossness of matter, how and when can it produce
its inevitable result? It simply waits for the man until
it reaches its level ; it remains as so much stored-up ener-
gy until its opportunity arrives. While this conscious-
ness is focussed upon the physical and astral planes it
cannot react upon him, but as soon as he transfers him-
self entirely to the mental it is ready for him, its flood-
gates are opened, and its action commences. So perfect
justice is done, and nothing is ever lost, even though to
us in this lower world it seems to have missed its aim
and come to nothing.

25

CHAPTER V.

MANY MANSIONS.

The key-note of the conception is the comprehension
of how man makes his own heaven. Here upon this
plane of the Divine Mind exists, as we have said, all
beauty and glory conceivable ; but the man can look out
upon it all only through the windows he himself has
made. Every one of his thought-forms is such a window,
through which response may come to him from the forces
without. If he has chiefly regarded physical things dur-
ing his earth-life, then he has made for himself but few
windows through which this higher glory can shine in
upon him. Yet every man will have had some touch of
pure, unselfish feeling, even if it were but once in all his
life, and that will be a window for him now. Every man,
except the utter savage at a very early stage, will surely
have something of this wonderful time of bliss. Instead
of saying, as orthodoxy does, that some men will go to
heaven and some to hell, it would be far more correct to
say that all men will have their share of both states (if
we are to call even the lowest astral life by so horrible a
name as hell), and it is only their relative proportions
which differ. It must be borne in mind that the soul of
the ordinary man is as yet but at an early stage of his
development. He has learnt to use his physical vehicle
with comparative ease, and he can also function toler-
ably freely in his astral body, though he is rarely able
to carry through the memory of its activities to his physi-
cal brain; but his mental body is not yet in any true
sense a vehicle at all, since he cannot utilize it as he does

26

MANY MANSIONS.

those lower bodies, cannot travel about in it, nor employ-
its senses for the reception of information in the normal
way.

We must not think of him, therefore, as in a condi-
tion of any great activity, or as able to move about free-
ly, as he did upon the astral levels. His condition here
is chiefly receptive, and his communication with the
world outside him is only through his own windows, and
therefore exceedingly limited. The man who can put
forth full activity there is already almost more than
man, for he must be a glorified spirit, a great and highly-
evolved entity. He would have full consciousness there,
and would use his mental vehicle as freely as the ordi-
nary man employs his physical body, and through it
vast fields of higher knowledge would lie open to him.

But we are thinking of one as yet less developed than
this — one who has his windows, and sees only through
them. In order to understand his heaven we must con-
sider two points: His relation to the plane itself, and
his relation to his friends. The question of his relation
to his surroundings upon the plane divides itself into
two parts, for we have to think first of the matter of
the plane as moulded by his thought, and secondly of the
forces of the plane as evoked in answer to his aspirations.

I have mentioned how man surrounds himself with
thought-forms; here on this plane we are in the very
home of thought, so naturally those forms are all-im-
portant in connection with both these considerations.
There are living forces about him, mighty angelic 'in-
habitants of the plane, and many of their orders are
very sensitive to certain aspirations of man, and readily
respond to them. But naturally both his thoughts and
his aspirations are only along the lines which he has
already prepared during earth-life. It might seem that
when he was transferred to a plane of such transcendent
force and vitality, he might well be stirred up to en-
tirely new activities along hitherto unwonted lines; but
this is not possible. His mind-body is not in by any

27

THE LIFE AFTEB DEATH

means the same order as his lower vehicles, and is by no
means so fully under his control. All through a past of
many lives, it has been accustomed to receive its im-
pressions and incitements to action from below, through
the lower vehicles, chiefly from the physical body, and
sometimes from the astral; it has done very little in
the way of receiving direct mental vibrations at its own
level, and it cannot suddenly begin to accept and respond
to them. Practically, then, the man does not initiate any
new thoughts, but those which he has already form
the windows through which he looks out on his new
world.

With regard to these windows there are two possi-
bilities of variation — the direction in which they look,
and the kind of glass of which they are composed. There
are very many directions which the higher thought may
take. Some of these, such as affection and devotion, are
so generally of a personal character that it is perhaps
better to consider them in connection with the man's re-
lation to other people ; let us rather take first an example
where that element does not come in — where we have to
deal only with the influence of his surroundings. Sup-
pose that one of his windows into heaven is that of
music. Here we have a very mighty force; you know
how wonderfully music can uplift a man, can make him
for the time a new being in a new world; if you have
ever experienced its effect you will realize that here we
are in the presence of the stupendous power. The man
that has no music in his soul has no window open in that
direction ; but a man who has a musical window will re-
ceive through it three entirely distinct sets of impres-
sions, all of which, however, will be modified by the kind
of glass he has in his window. It is obvious that his glass
may be a great limitation to his view ; it may be colored,
and so admit only certain rays of light, or it may be of
poor material, and so distort and darken all the rays as
they enter. For example, one man may have been able
while on earth to appreciate only one class of music,

28

Fig. 4.

Fig. 5.

MANY MANSIONS.

and so on. But suppose his musical window to be a good
one, what will he receive through it?

First, he will sense that music which is the expression
of the ordered movement of the forces of the plane.
There was a definite fact behind the poetic idea of the
music of the spheres, for on these higher planes all move-
ment and action of any kind produces glorious harmon-
ies both of sound and color. All thought expresses itself
in this way — ^his own as well as that of others — ^in a
lovely yet indescribable series of everchanging chords,
as of a thousand JEolian harps. This musical manifes-
tation of the vivid and glowing life of heaven would
be for him a kind of ever-present and ever-delightful
background to all his other experiences.

Secondly, there is among the inhabitants of the plane
one class of entities — one great order of angels, as our
Christian friends would call them, who are specially de-
voted to music, and habitually express themselves by
its means to a far fuller extent than the rest. They are
spoken of in old Hindu books under the name of Gand-
harvas. The man whose soul is in tune with music will
certainly attract their attention, and will draw himself
into connection with some of them, and so will learn
with ever-increasing enjoyment all the marvellous new
combinations which they employ. Thirdly, he will be
a keenly appreciative listener to the music made by his
fellow-men in the heaven-world. Think how many great
composers have preceded him: Bach, Beethoven, Men-
delssohn, Handel, Mozart, Rossini — all are there, not
dead but full of vigorous life, and ever pouring forth
far grander strains, far more glorious harmonies, than
any which they knew on earth. Each of these is indeed
a fountain of wondrous melody, and many an inspira-
tion of our earthly musicians is in reality but a faint and
far-off echo of the sweetness of their song. Very far
more than we realize of the genius of this lower world is
naught but a reflection of the untrammelled powers of
those who have gone before us; oftener than we think

29

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

the man who is receptive here can catch some thought
from them, and reproduce it, so far as may be possible,
in this lower sphere. Great masters of music have told
us how they sometimes hear the whole of some grand
oratorio, some stately march, some noble chorus in one
resounding chord ; how it is in this way that the inspira-
tion comes to them, though when they try to write it
down in notes, many pages of music may be necessary
to express it. That exactly expresses the manner in
which the heavenly music differs from that which we
know here; one mighty chord there will convey what
here would take hours to render far less effectively.

Very similar would be the experiences of the man
whose window was art. He also would have the same
three possibilities of delight, for the order of the plane
expresses itself in color as well as in sound, and all Theo-
sophical students are familiar with the fact that there
is a color language of the Devas — an order of spirits
whose very communication one with another is by flash-
ings of splendid color. Again, all the great artists of
mediaeval times are working still — not with brush and
canvas, but with the far easier, yet infinitely more satis-
factory moulding of mental matter by the power of
thought. Every artist knows how far below the concep-
tion in his mind is the most successful expression of it
upon paper or canvas; but here to think is to realize,
and disappointment is impossible. The same thing is
true of all directions of thought, so that there is in truth
an infinity to enjoy and to learn, far beyond all that our
limited minds can grasp down here.

30

CHAPTER VI.

OUR FRIENDS IN HEAVEN.

But let us turn to the second part of our subject, the \
question of the man's relations with persons whom he
loves, or with those for whom he feels devotion or adora-
tion. Again and again people ask us whether they will
meet and know their loved ones in this grander life,
whether amid all this unimaginable splendor they will
look in vain for the familiar faces without which all \
would for them seem vanity. Happily to this question 1
the answer is clear and unqualified; the friends will j
be there without the least shadow of doubt, and far more /
fully, far more really, than ever they have been with us !
yet.

Yet again, men often ask **what of our friends al-
ready in the enjoyment of the heaven-life ; can they see
us here below? Are they watching us and waiting for
us?'' Hardly; for there would be difficulties in the
way of either of these theories. How could the dead be
happy if he looked back and saw those whom he loved in
sorrow or suffering, or, far worse still, in the commission
of sin? And if we adopt the other alternative, that he
does not see, but is waiting, the case is scarcely better.
For then the man will have a long and wearisome period
of waiting, a painful time of suspense, often extending
over many years, while the friend would in many cases
arrive so much changed as to be no longer sympathetic.
On the system so wisely provided for us by nature all
these difficulties are avoided; those whom the man loves
most he has ever with him, and always at their noblest
and best, while no shadow of discord or change can ever

31

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

come between them, since he receives from them all the
time exactly what he wishes. The arrangement is in-
finitely superior to anything which the imagination of
man has been able to offer us in its place — as indeed we
might have expected — for all those speculations were
man's idea of what is best, but the truth is God's idea.
Let me try to explain it.

Whenever we love a person very deeply we form a
strong mental image of him, and he is often present in
our mind. Inevitably we take his mental image into the
heaven-world with us, because it is to that level of matter
that it naturally belongs. But the love which forms and
retains such an image is a very powerful force — a force
which is strong enough to reach and act upon the soul of
that friend, the real man whom we love. That soul at
once and eagerly responds, and pours himself into the
thought-form which we have made for him, and in that
way we find our friend truly present with us, more vivid-
ly than ever before. Remember, it is the soul we love,
not the body ; and it is the soul that we have with us here.
It may be said, **Yes, that would be so if the friend were
also dead ; but suppose he is still alive ; he cannot be in
two places at once.'' The fact is that, as far as this is
concerned, he can be in two places at once, and often
many more than two; and whether he is what we com-
monly call living, or what we commonly call dead, makes
not the slightest difference. Let us try to understand
what a soul really is, and. we shall see better how this
may be.

The soul belongs to a higher plane, and is a much
greater and grander thing "than any manifestation of it
can be. Its relation to its manifestations is that of one
dimension to another — ^that of a line to a square, or a
square to a cube. No number of squares could ever
make a cube, because the square has only two dimen-
sions, while the cube has three. So no number of ex-
pressions on any lower plane can ever exhaust the ful-
ness of the soul, since he stands upon an altogether

32

OUE FEIENDS IN HEAVEN.

higher level. He puts down a small portion of himself
into a physical body in order to acquire experience
which can only be had on this plane; he can take only
one such body at a time, for that is the law; but if he
could take a thousand, they would not be sufficient to
express what he really is. He may have only one physi-
cal body, but if he has evoked such love from a friend,
that that friend has a strong mental image of him al-
ways present in his thought, then he is able to respond
to that love by pouring into that thought-form his own
life, and so vivifying it into a real expression of him on
this level which is two whole planes higher than the
physical, and therefore so much the better able to express
his qualities.

If it still seems difficult to realize how his conscious-
ness can be active in that manifestation as well as in
this, compare with this an ordinary physical experience.
Each of us, as he sits in his chair, is conscious at the
same instant of several physical contacts. He touches
the seat of the chair, his feet rest on the ground, his
hands feel the arms of the chair, or perhaps hold a book ;
and yet his brain had no difficulty in realizing all these
contacts at once ; why, then should it be harder for the
soul, which is so much greater than the mere physical
consciousness, to be conscious simultaneously in more
than one of these manifestations on planes so entirely
below him ? It is really the one man who feels all those
different contacts ; it is really the one man who feels all
these different thought-images, and is real, living and
loving in all of them. You have him there always at his
best, for this is a far fuller expression than the physical
plane could ever give, even under the best of circum-
stances.

Will this affect the evolution of the friend in any
way, it may be asked? Certainly it will, for it allows
him an additional opportunity of manifestation. If he
has a physical body he is already learning physical les-
sons through it, but this enables him at the very same

33

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

time to develop the quality of affection much more rapid-
ly through the form on the mental plane which you have
given him. So your love for him is doing great things
for him. As we have said, the soul may manifest in
many images if he is fortunate enough to have them
made for him. One who is much loved by many people
may have part in many heavens simultaneously, and so
may evolve with far greater rapidity; but this vast ad-
ditional opportunity is the direct result and reward of
those lovable qualities which drew towards him the af-
fectionate regard of so many of his fellowmen. So not
only does he receive love from all these, but through that
receiving he himself grows in love, whether these friends
be living or dead.

We should observe, however, that there are two possi-
ble limitations to the perfection of this intercourse.
First, your image of your friend may be partial and im-
perfect, so that many of his higher qualities may not be
represented, and may therefore be unable to show them-
selves forth through it. Then, secondly, there may be
some difficulty from your friend's side. You may have
formed a conception somewhat inaccurately; if your
friend be as yet not a highly evolved soul, it is possible
that you may even have overrated him in some direction,
and in that case there might be some aspect of your
thought image which he could not completely fill. This,
however, is unlikely, and could only take place when a
quite unworthy object had been unwisely idolized. Even
then the man who made the image would not find any
change or lack in his friend, for the latter is at least
better able to fulfil his ideal than he has ever been during
physical life. Being undeveloped, he may not be per-
fect, but at least he is better than ever before, so nothing
is wanting to the joy of the dweller in heaven. Your
friend can fill hundreds of images with those qualities
which he possesses, but when a quality is as yet unde-
veloped in him, he does not suddenly evolve it because
you have supposed him already to have attained it.

34

OUR FRIENDS IN HEAVEN.

Here is the enormous advantage which those have who
form images only of those who cannot disappoint them —
or, since there could be no disappointment, we should
rather say, of those capable of rising above even the
highest conception that the lower mind can form of them.
The Theosophist who forms in his mind the image of
the Master knows that all the inadequacy will be on his
own side, for he is drawing there upon a depth of love
and power which his mental plummet can never sound.

But, it may be asked, since the soul spends so large
a proportion of his time in the enjoyment of the bliss
of this heaven-world, what are his opportunities of de-
velopment during his stay there ? They may be divided
into three classes, though of each there may be many
varieties. First, tlirough certain qualities in himself he
has opened certain windows into this heaven-world; by
the continued exercise of those qualities through so long
a time he will greatly strengthen them, and will return to
earth for his next incarnation very richly dowered in
that respect. All thoughts are intensified by reiteration,
and the man who spends a thousand years principally in
pouring forth unselfish affection will assuredly at the
end of that period know how to love strongly and well.

Secondly, if through his window he pours forth an
aspiration which brings him into contact with one of
the great orders of spirits, he will certainly acquire much
from his intercourse with them. In music they will use
all kinds of overtones and variants which were previ-
ously unknown to him; in art they are familiar with a
thousand types of which he has had no conception. But
all of these will gradually impress themselves upon him,
and in this way also he will come out of that glorious
heaven-life richer far than he entered it.

Thirdly, he will gain additional information through
the mental images which he has made, if these people
themselves are sufficiently developed to be able to teach
him. Once more, the Theosophist who has made the
image of a Master will obtain very definite teaching and

35

THE LIFE APTEB DEATH

help through it, and in a lesser degree this is possible
with lesser people.

Above and beyond all this comes the life of the soul
or ego in his own causal body — ^the vehicle which he
carries on with him from life to life, unchanging except
for its gradual evolution. There comes an end even to
that glorious heaven-life, and then the mental body in
its turn drops away as the others have done, and the
life in the causal begins. Here the soul needs no win-
dows, for this is his true home, and here all his walls
have fallen away. The majority of men have as yet but
very little consciousness at such a height as this: they
rest, dreamily unobservant and scarcely awake, but such
vision as they have is true, however limited by their
lack of development. Still, every time they return these
limitations will be smaller, and they themselves will be
greater, so that this truest life will be wider and fuller
" for them. As the improvement continues, this causal
life grows longer and longer, assuming an ever larger
proportion, as compared to the existence at lower levels.
And as he grows the man becomes capable not only of
receiving, but of giving. Then, indeed, is his triumph
approaching, for he is learning the lesson of the Christ,
learning the crowning glory of sacrifice, the supreme de-
light of pouring out all his life for the helping of his
fellow-men, the devotion of the self to the all, of celes-
tial strength to human service, of all these splendid
heavenly forces to the aid of struggling sons of earth.
That is part of the life that lies before us; these are
some of the steps which even we, who are as yet at the
very bottom of the golden ladder, may see rising above us,
so that we may report them to you who have not seen
them yet, in order that you, too, may open your eyes to the
unimaginable splendor which surrounds you here and
now in this dull daily life. This is part of the gospel
which Theosophy brings to you — the certainty of this
sublime future for all. It is certain because it is here
already, because to inherit it we have only to fit ourselves
for it.

36

CHAPTER VII.

GUARDIAN ANGELS.

To my mind it is one of the most beautiful points
about our Theosophical teaching that it gives back to
a man all the most useful and helpful beliefs of the re-
ligions which he has outgrown. There are many who,
though they feel that they cannot bring themselves to
accept much that they used to take as a matter of course,
nevertheless look back with a certain amount of regret to
some of the prettier ideas of their mental childhood.
They have come up out of the twilight into fuller light,
and they are thankful for the fact, and they could not
return into their former attitude if they would; yet
some of the dreams of the twilight were lovely, and the
fuller light seems sometimes a little hard in comparison
with its softer tints. Theosophy comes to their rescue
here, and shows them that all the glory and the beauty
and the poetry, glimpses of which they used dimly to
catch in their twilight, exists as a living reality, and
that instead of disappearing before the noonday glow,
its splendor will be only the more vividly displayed
thereby. But our teaching gives them back their poetry
on quite a new basis — a basis of scientific fact instead of
uncertain tradition. A very good example of such a
belief is to be found under our title of *' Guardian
Angels." There are many graceful traditions of spirit-
ual guardianship and angelic intervention which we
should all very much like to believe if we could only see

87

THE LIFE AFTEE. DEATH

our way to accept them rationally, and I hope to explain
that to a very large extent we may do this.

The belief in such intervention is a very old one.
Among the earliest Indian legends we find accounts of
the occasional appearances of minor deities at critical
points in human affairs ; the Greek epics are full of simi-
lar stories, and in the history of Rome itself we read how
the heavenly twins. Castor and Pollux, led the armies
of the infant republic at the battle of Lake Regillus. In
mediaeval days St. James is recorded to have led the
Spanish troops to victory, and there are many tales of
angels who watched over the pious wayfarer, or inter-
fered at the right moment to protect him from harm.
^* Merely a popular superstition,^' the superior person
will say ; perhaps, but wherever we encounter a popular
superstition which is widely-spread and persistent, we
almost invariably find some kernal of truth behind it —
distorted and exaggerated often, yet a truth still. And
this is a case in point.

Most religions speak to men of guardian angels, who
stand by them in times of sorrow and trouble ; and
Christianity was no exception to this rule. But for its
sins there came upon Christendom the blight which by
an extraordinary inversion of truth was called the Re-
formation, and in that ghastly upheaval very much was
lost that for the majority of us has not even yet been
regained. That terrible abuses existed, and that a re-
form was needed in the church I should be the last to
deny: yet surely the Reformation was a very heavy
judgment for the sins which had preceded it. What is
called Protestantism has emptied and darkened the
world for its votaries, for among many strange and
gloomy falsehoods it has endeavored to propagate the
theory that nothing exists to occupy the infinity of
stages between the divine and the human. It offers us
the amazing conception of a constant capricious inter-
ference by the Ruler of the universe with the working
of His own laws and the result of His own decrees, and

38

GUARDIAN ANGELS

this usually at the request of His creatures, who are ap-
parently supposed to know better than He what is good
for them. It would be impossible, if one could ever come
to believe this, to divest one 's mind of the idea that such
interference might be and indeed must be, partial and
unjust. In Theosophy we have no such thought, for we
hold the belief in perfect Divine justice, and therefore
we recognize that there can be no intervention unless the
person involved has deserved such help. Even then, it
would come to him through agents, and never by direct
Divine interposition. We know from our study, and
many of us from our experience also, that many inter-
mediate stages exist between the human and the Divine.
The old belief in angels and archangels is justified by
the facts, for just as there are various kingdoms below
humanity, so there are also kingdoms above it in evolu-
tion. We find next above us, holding much the same
position with regard to us that we in turn hold to the
animal kingdom, the great kingdom of the devas or
angels, and above them again an evolution which has
been called that of the Dhyan Chohans, or archangels
(though the names given to these orders matter little),
and so onward and upward to the very feet of Divinity.
All is one graduated life, from God Himself to the very
dust beneath our feet — one long ladder, of which hu-
manity occupies only one of the steps. There are many
steps below us and above us, and every one of them is
occupied. It would indeed be absurd for us to suppose
that we constitute the highest possible form of develop-
ment— the ultimate achievement of evolution. The oc-
casional appearance among humanity of men much fur-
ther advanced shows us our next stage, and furnishes
us with an example to follow. Men such as the Buddha
and the Christ, and many other lesser teachers, exhibit
before our eyes a grand ideal towards which we may
work, however far from its attainment we may find our-
selves at the present moment.

If special interventions in human affairs occasionally

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

take place, is it then to the angelic hosts that we may
look as the probable agents employed in them? Per-
haps sometimes, but very rarely, for these higher beings
have their own work to do, connected with their place
in the mighty scheme of things, and they are little likely
either to notice or to interfere with us. Man is uncon-
sciously so extraordinarily conceited that he is prone to
think that all the greater powers in the universe ought
to be watching over him, and ready to help him when-
ever he suffers through his own folly or ignorance. He
forgets that he is not engaged in acting as a beneficent
providence to the kingdoms below him, or going out of
his way to look after and help the wild animals. Some-
times he plays to them the part of the orthodox devil,
and breaks into their innocent and harmles lives with
torture and wanton destruction, merely to gratify his
own degraded lust of cruelty, which he chooses to de-
nominate * * sport ' ' ; sometimes he holds animals in bond-
age, and takes a certain amount of care of them, but
it is only that they may work for him — not that he may
forward their evolution in the abstract. How can he
expect from those above him a type of supervision which
he is so very far from giving to those below him? It
may well be that the angelic kingdom goes about its own
business, taking little more notice of us than we take
of the sparrows in the trees. It may now and then
happen that an angel becomes aware of some human
sorrow or difficulty which moves his pity, and he may
try to help us, just as we might try to assist an animal
in distress; but certainly his wider vision would recog-
nize the fact that at the present stage of evolution such
interpositions would in the vast majority of cases be
productive of infinitely more harm than good. In the
far-distant past man was frequently assisted by these
non-human agencies because then there were none as
yet among our infant humanity capable of taking the
lead as teachers ; but now that we are attaining our ado-
lescence, we are supposed to have arrived at a stage

40

GUAEDIAN ANGELS

when we can provide leaders and helpers from among
our own ranks.

There is another kingdom of nature of which little is
known — that of nature-spirits or fairies. Here again
popular tradition has preserved a trace of the existence
of an order of beings unknown to science. They have
been spoken of under many names — pixies, gnomes, ko-
bolds, brownies, sylphs, undines, good people, etc., and
there are few lands in whose folk-lore they do not play
a part. They are beings possessing either astral or
etheric bodies, and consequently it is only rarely and
under peculiar circumstances that they become visible
to man. They usually avoid his neighborhood, for they
dislike his wild outbursts of passion and desire, so that
when they are seen it is generally in some lonely spot,
and by some mountaineer or shepherd whose work takes
him far from the busy haunts of the crowd. It has some-
times happened that one of these creatures has become
attached to some human being, and devoted himself to
his service, as will be found in stories of the Scottish
Highlands ; but as a rule intelligent assistance is hardly
to be expected from entities of this class.

Then there are the great adepts, the Masters of Wis-
dom— men like ourselves, yet so much more highly
evolved that to us they seem as gods in power, in wis-
dom and in compassion. Their whole life is devoted to
the work of helping evolution ; would they therefore be
likely to intervene sometimes in human affairs? Possi-
bly occasionally, but only very rarely, because they have
other and far greater work to do. The ignorant some-
times have suggested that the Adepts ought to come
down into our great towns and succor the poor — the ig-
norant, I say, because only one who is exceedingly ig-
norant and incredibly presumptuous ever ventures to
criticize thus the action of those so infinitely wiser and
greater than himself. The sensible and modest man
realizes that what they do they must have good reason
for doing, and that for him to blame them would be the

41

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

height of stupidity and ingratitude. They have their
own work, on planes far higher than we can reach ; they
deal directly with the souls of men, and shine upon them
as sunlight upon a flower, drawing them upwards and
onwards, and filling them with power and life ; and that
is a grander work by far than healing or caring for or
feeding their bodies, good though this also may be in its
place. To employ them in working on the physical
plane would be a waste of force infinitely greater than
it would be to set our most learned men of science to the
labor of breaking stones upon the road, upon the plea
that that was a physical work for the good of all, while
scientific work was not immediately profitable to the
poor! It is not from the Adept that physical interven-
tion is likely to come, for he is far more usefully em-
ployed.

42

CHAPTER Vm.

HUMAN WORKERS IN THE UNSEEN.

There are two classes from whom intervention in
human affairs may come, and in both cases they are men
like ourselves, and not far removed from our own level.
The first class consists of those whom we call the dead.
We think of them as far away, but that Is a delusion;
they are very near us, and though in their new life they
cannot usually see our physical bodies, they can and do
see our astral vehicles, and therefore they know all our
feelings and emotions. So they know when we are in
trouble, and when we need help, and it sometimes hap-
pens that they are able to give it. Here,. then, we have
an enormous number of possible helpers, who may occas-
ionally intervene in human affairs. ( Occasionally, but
not very often; for the dead man is all the while stead-
ily withdrawing into himself, and therefore passing
rapidly out of touch with earthly things; and the most
highly developed, and therefore the most helpful of men,
are precisely those who must pass away from earth most
quickly. > Still there are undoubted cases in which the
dead have intervened in human affairs; indeed, perhaps
such cases are more numerous than we imagine, for in
very many of them the work done is only the putting
of a suggestion into the mind of some person still living
on the physical plane, and he often remains unconscious
of the source of his happy inspiration. Sometimes it is
necessary for the dead man's purpose that he should
show himself, and it is only then that we who are so
blind are aware of his loving thought for us. Besides,

43

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

he cannot always show himself at will; there may be
many times when he tries to help, but is unable to do
so, and we all the time know nothing of his offer. Still
there are such cases, and some of them will be found re-
counted in my book on The Other Side of Death,

The second class among which helpers may be found
consists of those who are able to function consciously
upon the astral plane while still living — or perhaps we
had better say, while still in the physical body, for the
words ** living'' and **dead" are in reality ludicrously
misapplied in ordinary parlance.

It is we, immeshed as we are in this physical matter,
buried in the dark and noisome mist of earth-life, blind-
ed by the heavy veil that shuts out from us so much of
the light and the glory that are shining around us— it is
surely we who are the dead; not those who, having cast
off for the time the burden of the flesh, stand amongst
us radiant, rejoicing, strong, so much freer, so much
more capable than we.

These who, while still in the physical world, have
learnt to use their astral bodies, and in some cases their
mental bodies also, are usually the pupils of the great
Adepts before-mentioned. They cannot do the work
which the Master does, for their powers are not de-
veloped; they cannot yet function freely on those lofty
planes where He can produce such magnificent results;
but they can do something at lower levels, and they are
thankful to serve in whatever way He thinks best for
them, and to undertake such work as is within their
power. So sometimes it happens that they see some
human trouble or suffering which they are able to allevi-
ate, and they gladly try to do what they can. They are
often able to help both the living and the dead, but it
must always be remembered that they work under condi-
tions. When such power and such training are given to
a man, they are given to him under restrictions. He
must never use them selfishly, never display them to
gratify curiosity, never employ them to pry into the

44

Fi.e:. 6.

HUMAN WORKERS IN THE UNSEEN.

business of others, never give what at Spiritualistic se-
ances are called tests — that is to say, he must never do
anything which can be proved as a phenomenon on the
physical plane. He might if he chose take a message to
a dead man, but it would be beyond his province to bring
back a reply from the dead to the living, unless it were
under direct instructions from the Master. Thus the
band of invisible helpers does not constitute itself into a
detective office, nor into an astral information bureau,
but it simply and quietly does such work as is given to
it to do, or as comes in its way.

Let us see how a man is able to do such work and give
such help as we have described, so that we may under-
stand what are the limits of this power, and see how we
ourselves may to some extent attain it. We must first
think how a man leaves his body in sleep. He abandons
the physical body, in order that it may have complete
rest ; but he himself, the soul, needs no rest, for he feels
no fatigue. It is only the physical body that ever be-
comes tired. When we speak of mental fatigue it is in
reality a misnomer, for it is the brain and not the mind
that is tired. In sleep, then, the man is simply using his
astral body instead of his physical, and it is only that
body that is asleep, not the man himself. If we
examine a sleeping savage with clairvoyant sight, in-
deed, we shall probably find that he is nearly as much
asleep as his body — that he has very little definite con-
sciousness in the astral vehicle which he is inhabiting.
He is unable to move away from the immediate neigh-
borhood of the sleeping physical body, and if an attempt
were made to draw him away he would wake in terror.
If we examine a more civilized man, as for example
one of ourselves, we shall find a very great difference.
In this case the man in his astral body is by no means
unconscious, but quite actively thinking. Nevertheless,
he may be taking very little more notice of his surround-
ings than the savage, though not at all for the same
reason. The savage is incapable of seeing; the civilized

45

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

man is so wrapped up in his own thought that he does
not see, though he could. He has behind him the im-
memorial custom of a long series of lives in which the
astral faculties have not been used, for these faculties
have been gradually growing inside a shell, something
as a chicken grows inside the egg. {^he shell is composed
of the great mass of self -centered thought in which the
ordinary man is so hopelessly entombed. ) Whatever may
have been the thoughts chiefly engaging his mind during
the past day, he usually continues them when falling
asleep, and he is thus surrounded by so dense a wall of
his own making that he practically knows nothing of
what is going on outside. Occasionally some violent im-
pact from without, or some strong desire of his own from
within, may tear aside this curtain of mist for the
moment and permit him to receive some definite im-
pression; but even then the fog closes in again almost
immediately, and he dreams on unobservantly as before.
Can he be awakened, you will say? Yes, that may
happen to him in four different ways. First in the far-
distant future the slow but sure evolution of the man
will undoubtedly gradually dissipate the curtain of the
mist ; Secondly, the man himself, having learnt the facts
of the case, may by steady and persistent effort clear
away the mist from within, and by degrees overcome
the inertia resulting from ages of inactivity. He may
resolve before going to sleep to try when he leaves his
body to awaken himself and see something. This is
merely a hastening of the natural process, and there will
be no harm in it if the man has previously developed
common sense and the moral qualities. If these are de-
fective, he may come very sadly to grief, for he runs
the double danger of misusing such powers as he may
acquire, and of being overwhelmed by fear in the pres-
ence of forces which he can neither understand nor con-
trol. Thirdly, it has sometimes happened that some ac-
cident, or some unlawful use of magical ceremonies,
has so rent the veil that it can never wholly be closed

46

HUMAN WORKERS IN THE UNSEEN.

again. In such a case the man may be left in the terri-
ble condition so well described by Madame Blavatsky in
her story of A Bewitched Life, or by Lord Lytton in his
powerful novel Zanoni. Fourthly, some friend who
knows the man thoroughly, and believes him capable of
facing the dangers of the astral plane and doing good
unselfish work there, may act upon this cloud-shell from
without and gradually arouse the man to his higher pos-
sibilities. But he will never do this unless he feels abso-
lutely sure of him, of his courage and devotion, and of
his possession of the necessary qualifications for good
work. If in all these ways he is judged satisfactory, he
may thus be invited and enabled to join the band of
helpers.

Now, as to the work such helpers can do. I have
given many illustrations of this in the little book which I
have written, bearing the title of Invisible Helpers, so I
will not repeat those stories now, but rather give you a
few leading ideas as to the different types of work which
are most usually done. Naturally it is of varied kinds, and
most of it is not in any way physical; perhaps it may
best be divided into work with the living, and work
with the dead.

The giving of comfort and consolation in sorrow or
sickness at once suggests itself as a comparatively easy
task, and one that can constantly be performed without
anyone knowing who does it.

Often efforts are made to patch up quarrels — ^to ef-
fect a reconciliation between those who long have been
separated by some difference of opinions or of interests.
Sometimes it has been possible to warn men of some
great danger which impended over their heads, and thus
to avert an accident. There have been cases in which
this has been done even with regard to a purely physi-
cal matter, though more generally it is against moral
danger that such warnings are given. Occasionally it
has been permissible to offer a solemn warning to one
who was leading an immoral life, and so to help him back

47..

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

into the path of rectitude. If the helpers happen to know
of a time of special trouble for a friend, they will en-
deavor to stand by him through it, and to give him
strength and comfort.

In great catastrophes, too, there is often much that
can be done by those whose work is unrecognized by the
outer world. Sometimes it may be permitted that some
one or two persons may be saved; and so it comes that
in accounts of terrible wholesale destruction we hear
now and then of escapes which are esteemed miraculous.
But this is only when among those who are in danger
there is one who is not to die in that way — one who owes
to the Divine law no debt that can be paid in that
fashion. In the great majority of cases all that can be
done is to make some effort to impart strength and cour-
age to face what must happen, and then afterwards to
meet the souls as they arrive upon the astral plane, and
welcome and assist them there.

48

CHAPTER IX.

HELPING THE DEAD.

This brings us to the consideration of what is by far
the greatest and most important part of the work — ^the
helping of the dead. Before we can understand this we
must throw aside altogether the ordinary clumsy and
erroneous ideas about death and the condition of the
dead. They are not far away from us, they are not sud-
denly entirely changed, they have not become angels or
demons. They are just human beings, exactly such as
^ey were before, neither better nor worse, and they
stand close by us still, sensitive to our feelings and our
thoughts even more than of yore. That is why uncon-
trolled grief for the dead is so wrong as well as so sel-
fish. The dead man feels every emotion which passes
through the heart of his loved ones, and if they uncom-
prehendingly give way to sorrow, that throws a corre-
sponding cloud of depression over him, and makes his
way harder than it need be if his friends had been better
taught.

So there is much help that may be given to the dead
in very many ways. First of all, many of them — ^indeed,
most of them — need much explanation with regard to the
new world in which they find themselves. Their religion
ought to have taught them what to expect, and how to
live amid these new conditions ; but in most cases it has
not done anything of the kind. So it comes that very
many of them are in a condition of considerable un-
easiness, and others of positive terror. They need to be
soothed and comforted, for when they encounter the

49

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

dreadful thought-forms which they and their kind have
been making for centuries — thoughts of a personal devil
and an angry and cruel deity — they are often reduced
to a pitiable state of fear, which is not only exceedingly
unpleasant, but very bad for their evolution; and it
often costs the helper much time and trouble to bring
them into a more reasonable frame of mind.

There are men to whom this entry into a new life
seems to give for the first time an opportunity to see
themselves as they really are, and some of them are
therefore filled with remorse. Here again the helper's
services are needed to explain that what is past is past,
and that the only effective repentance is the resolve to do
this thing no more-l-that whatever the dead man may
have done, he is not a lost soul, but that he must simply
begin from where he finds himself, and try to live the
true life for the future. "^^ Some of them cling passion-
ately to earth, where all their thoughts and interests
have been fixed, and they suffer much when they find
themselves losing hold and sight of it.) Others are earth-
bound by the thought of crimes that they have com-
mitted, or duties that they have left undone, while others
in turn are worried about the condition of those whom
they have left behind. All these are cases which need
explanation, and sometimes it is also necessary for the
helper to take steps on the physical plane in order to
carry out the wishes of the dead man, and so leave him
free and untroubled to pass on to higher matters. People
are inclined ^to look at the dark side of Spiritualism ; but
we must never forget that it has done an enormous
amount of good in this sort of work — in giving to the
dead an opportunity to arrange their affairs after a
sudden and unexpected departure.

I (It is surely a happy thought that the time of much-
needed repose for the body is not necessarily a period
of inactivity for the true man within.', I used at one
time to feel that the time given to sleep was sadly wasted
time ; now I understand that Nature does not so misman-

50

HELPING THE DEAD.

age her affairs as to lose one-third of the man's life. Of
course there are qualifications required for this work;
but I have given them so carefully and at length in my
little book on the subject* that I need only just mention
them here. First, he must be one-pointed, and the work
of helping others must be ever the first and highest duty
for him. Secondly, he must have perfect self-control —
control over his temper and his nerves. He must never
allow his emotions to interfere with his work in the
slightest degree; he must be above anger, and above
fear. Thirdly, he must have perfect calmness, serenity
and joyousness. Men subject to depression and worry
are useless, for one great part of the work is to soothe
and to calm others, and how can they do that if they
are all the time in a whirl of excitement or worry them-
selves? Fourthly, the man must have knowledge; he
must have already learnt down here on this plane all
that he can about the other, for he cannot expect that
men there will waste valuable time in teaching him
what he might have acquired for himself. Fifthly, he
must be perfectly unselfish. He must be above the
foolishness of wounded feelings, and must think not of
himself but of the work that he has to do, so that he will
be glad to take the humblest duty or the greatest duty
without envy on the one hand or conceit on the other.
Sixthly, he must have a heart filled with love- — not senti-
mentalism, but the intense desire to serve, to become a
channel for that love of God which, like the peace of
God, passe th man's understanding.

You may think that this is an impossible standard;
on the contrary, it is attainable by every man. It will
take time to reach it, but assuredly it will be time well
spent. Do not turn away disheartened, but set to work
here and now, and strive to become fit for this glorious
task, and while we are striving, do not let us wait idly,
but try to undertake some little piece of work along the

* Invisible Helpers.

51

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

same lines. Every one knows some case of sorrow or
distress, whether among the living or the dead does not
matter ; if you know such a case, take it into your mind
when you lie down to sleep, and resolve as soon as you
are free from this body to go to that person and endeavor
to comfort him. You may not be conscious of the re-
sult, you may not remember anything of it in the morn-
ing; but be well assured that your resolve will not be
fruitless, and that whether you remember what you have
done or not, you will be quite sure to have done some-
thing. Some day sooner or later you will find evidence
that you have been successful. Remember that as we
help, we can be helped; remember that from the lowest
to the highest we are bound together by one long chain of
mutual service, and that although we stand on the lower
steps of the ladder, it reaches up above these earthly
mists to where the light of God is always shining.

52

CHAPTER X.

THOUGHTS ARE THINGS.

Reference has been made to the fact that thought and
emotion, besides the effect which they produce upon the
physical body, cause vibration in the subtler bodies ap-
propriate to them — the astral and mental bodies by
which each human being is surrounded. The following
passages from an article by Mrs. Besant, which appeared
in 1896, will help to make the matter clearer, when read
in conjunction with the illustrations reproduced in this
booklet*

The pictures of thought-forms herewith presented
were obtained as follows; two clairvoyant Theosophists
observed the forms caused by definite thoughts thrown
out by one of them, and also watched the forms pro-
jected by other persons under the influence of various
emotions. They described these as fully and accurately
as they could to an artist who sat with them, and he made
sketches and mixed colors, till some approximation to the
objects was made. Unfortunately the clairvoyants could
not draw and the artist could not see, so the arrangement
was a little like that of the blind and lame men — the
blind men having good legs carried the lame ones, and
the lame men having good eyes guided the blind. The
artist at his leisure painted the forms, and then another
committee was held and sat upon the paintings and in
the light of the criticisms then made our long-suffering

* For a fuller account of these researches see ''Thought Forms,"
by Annie Besant and C. W. Leadbeater, with thirty full-page
colored plates. Price $3.50.

53

THE LIFE AFTEE DEATH

brother painted an almost entirely new set — the most
successful attempt that has hitherto been made to present
these elusive shapes in the dull pigments of earth.

All students know that what is called the Aura of
man is the outer part of the cloud-like substance of his
higher bodies, interpenetrating each other, and extend-
ing beyond the confines of his physical body, the smallest
of all. They know also that two of these bodies, the
mental and desire bodies, are those chiefly concerned
with the appearance of what are called thought-forms.
But in order that the matter may be made clear for all,
and not only for students already acquainted with Theo-
sophical teachings, a recapitulation of the main facts will
not be out of place.

Man, the Thinker, is clothed in a body composed of
innumerable combinations of the subtle matter of the
mental plane, this body being more or less refined in its
constituents and organized more or less fully for its
functions, according to the stage of intellectual develop-
ment at which the man himself has arrived. The mental
body is an object of great beauty^ the delicacy aad rapid
motion of its particles giving it an aspect of living iri-
descent light, and this beauty becomes an extraordinarily
radiant and entrancing loveliness as the intellect becomes'
more highly evolved and is employed chiefly on pure 'and
gubiime topics. Every thought gives rise to a set of cor-
related vibrations in the matter of this body, accom-
panied with a marvellous play of color, like that in the
spra}' of a waterfall as the sunlight strikes it, raised to
the n^^ degree of color and vivid delicacy. The body
under this impulse throws off a vibrating portion of
itself, shaped by the nature of the vibrations — as figures
are made by sand on a disk vibrating to a musical note —
and this gathers from the surrounding atmosphere mat-
ter like itself in fineness from the elemental essence of
the mental world. We have then a thought-form pure
and simple, and it is a living entity of intense activity

54

THOUGHTS ARE THINGS

animated by the one idea that generated it. If made of
the finer kinds of matter, it will be of great power and
energy, and may be used as a most potent agent when di-
rected by a strong and steady will. Into the details of
such use we will enter later. Such a thought-form, if
directed to affect any object or person on the astral
world, will take to itself a covering of astral materials,
of fineness correlated to its own, from the elemental es-
sence of the astral world.

When the man's energy flows outwards towards ex-
ternal objects of desire, or is occupied in passional and
emotional activities, this energy works in a less subtle
order of matter than the mental, in that of the astral
world. What is called his desire-body is composed of
this matter, and it forms the most prominent part of the
aura in the undeveloped man. Where the man is of a
gross type, the desire-body is of the denser matter of the
astral plane, and is dull in hue, browns and dirty greens
and reds playing a great part in it. Through this will
flash various characteristic colors, as his passions are ex-
cited. A man of higher type has his desire-body com-
posed of the finer qualities of astral matter, with the col-
ors rippling over and flashing through it fine and clear
in hue. While less delicate and less radiant than the
mental body, it forms a beautiful object and as selfish-
ness is eliminated all the duller and heavier shades dis-
appear;

Three general principles underlie the production of
all thought-forms:

1. Quality of thought determines color.

2. Nature of thought determines form.

3. Definiteness of thought determines clearness of

outline.
Color. Colors depend on the number of vibrations
that take place in a second, and this is true in the astral
and mental worlds as well as in the physical. If the
astral and mental bodies are vibrating under the in-
fluence of devotion the aura will be suffused with blue,

55

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

more or less intense, beautiful and pure according to the
depth, elevation and purity of the feeling. In a church,
such thought-forms may be seen rising, for the most part
not very definitely outlined, but rolling masses of blue
clouds (Fig. 2). Too often the color is dulled by the in-
termixture of selfish feelings, when the blue is mixed
with browns and thus loses its pure brilliancy. But
the devotional thought of an unselfish heart is very
lovely in color, like the deep blue of a summer sky.
Through such clouds of blue will often shine out golden
stars of great brilliancy, darting upwards like a shower
of sparks.

Anger gives rise to red, of all shades from lurid
brick-red to brilliant scarlet; brutal anger will show as
flashes of lurid dull red from dark-brown clouds, while
the anger of ** noble indignation'^ is a vivid scarlet, by
no means unbeautiful to look at though it gives an un-
pleasant thrill.

Affection, love, sends out clouds of rosy hue varying
from dull crimson, where the love is animal in its nature,
rose-red mingled with brown when selfish, or with dull
green when jealous, to the most exquisite shades of deli-
cate rose like the early flushes of the dawning, as the love
becomes more purified from all selfish elements, and
flows out in wider and wider circles of generous imper-
sonal tenderness and compassion to all who are in need.

Intellect produces yellow thought-forms (Fig. 6),
the pure reason directed to spiritual ends giving rise to
a very beautiful delicate yellow, while used for more
selfish ends or mingled with ambition it yields deep
shades of orange, clear and intense (Fig. 7).

Form. According to the nature of the thought will
be the form it generates. In the thought-forms of devo-
tion the flower which is figured was a thought of pure de-
votion offered to One worshipped by the thinker, a
thought of self -surrender, of sacrifice (Fig. 3).

Such thoughts constantly assume flower-like forms,
exceedingly beautiful, varying much in outline but

56

THOUGHTS ARE THINGS

characterized by curved upward-pointing petals like
azure flames. It is this flower-like characteristic of de-
votion that may have led to the direction, by those who
saw, of offering flowers as part of religious worship, fig-
uring in suggestive material forms that which was visi-
ble in the astral world, hinting at things unseen by
things seen, and influencing the mind by an appropriate
symbology. A beam of blue light, like a pencil of rays,
shot upwards towards the sky, was a thought of loving
devotion to the Christ from the mind of a Christian.
The five-pointed star (Fig. 1, Frontispiece), was a
thought directed towards the Deity, a devotional aspira-
tion to be in harmony with cosmic law, as the expression
of His nature, and it was these latter elements which
gave it its geometrical form, while the mental constitu-
ents added the yellow rays. Thoughts which assume
geometrical shapes, such as the circle, cube, pyramid,
triangle, pentacle, double triangle, and the like, are
thoughts concerned with cosmic order, or they are meta-
physical concepts. Thus if this star were yellow, it
would be a thought directed intellectually to the working
of law, in connection with the Diety or with rational
man.

Among the thought-forms of affection Fig. 4 is very
good — a thought of love, clearly defined and definitely
directed towards its object. Fig. 5 is a thought which
is loving but appropriative, seeking to draw to itself and
to hold.

Fig. 7 is a characteristic form of a strong and ambi-
tious thought; it was taken from the aura of a man of
keen intellect and noble character, who was ambitious
(and worthy) to wield power, and whose thoughts were
turned to the public good. The ambitious element con-
tributes the hooked extensions, just as the grasping love
in Fig. 5 causes similar protrusions.

Clearness of outline. This depends entirely on the
definiteness of the thought, and is a comparatively rare
thing. Contrast Figs. 1, 2 and 3. Vague, dreamy devo-

57

THE LIFE AFTER DEATH

tion yields the cloudy mass of Fig. 2 and comparatively
few worshippers show anything but this. So the great
majority of people when thinking send out such clouds
as Fig. 6:3 The creator of Fig. 3 knew just what he
meant, and so did the creator of Fig. 1. There was no
drifting, no '* wobbling," clear, pure and strong were
the thoughts of these devotees. So again the person
who generated the form represented by Fig. 4 had a
very clear and definite love directed towards a specific
object, and the maker of Fig. 7 meant to carry out the
thought there outlined.

A thought of love and of desire to protect directed
strongly towards some beloved object creates a form
which goes to the person thought of and remains in his
aura as a shielding and protecting agent ; it will seek all
opportunities to serve ; and all opportunities to defend,
not by a conscious and deliberate action, but by a blind
following out of the impulse impressed upon it, and it
will strengthen friendly forces that impinge on the aura
and weaken unfriendly ones. Thus may we create and
maintain veritable guardian angels round those we love,
and many a mother's prayer for a distant child thus
circles round him, though she knows not the method by
which her *' prayer is answered."

58

Elementary Books on Theosophy

The Riddle of Life. Annie Besant. (4 illustrations.)

The Life After Death. C W. Leadbeater. (7 illustrations.)

An Outline of Theosophy. C. W. Leadbeater.

First Steps in Theosophy. E. M. Mallet. (5 illustrations.)

Ancient Wisdom. Annie Besant.

-^ / Seven Principles of Man. Annie Besant.

.H i 1 Re-incarnation. Annie Besant.

•^'rt ) Karma. Annie Besant.

o g (Death — and After? Annie Besant.

o rt J The Astral Plane. C. W. Leadbeater.
Jb S I The Devachanic Plane. C. W. Leadbeater.
H \ Man and His Bodies. Annie Besant.
The Key to Theosophy. H. P. Blavatsky.
Esoteric Buddhism. A. P. SiNNETT.
The Growth of the Soul. A. P. SiNNETT.
Popular Lectures on Theosophy. Annie Besant.

Books on Theosophy and Religions

A Universal Text Book of Religion and Morals. Edited
by Annie Besant. Part I. Eeligion, part II. Ethics.

Fragments of a Faith Forgotten. G. E. S. Mead, B.A.

Esoteric Christianity. Annie Besant.

Four Great Religions (Hinduism, Buddhism, Zoroastrian-

ism, Christianity.) Annie Besant.
The Christian Creed. C. W, Leadbeater.
Did Jesus Live 100 years B. C- G. E. S. Mead, B.A.
The Gospel and the Gospels. G. E. S. Mead, B.A.

1

BOOKS ON THEOSOPHY AND ITS
PRACTICAL APPLICATION

Thought Power, its Control and Evolution of Character.

Culture. Annie Besant. Sarah Corbett.

In the Outer Court. Annie Besant. Some Problems of Life.
The Path of Discipleship. Annie Besant

Annie Besant Fragments of Thought and Life.

Mabel Collins.

BOOKS ON THEOSOPHY AND THE INNER LIFE

The Voice of the Silence. The Doctrine of the Heart.

H. P. Blavatsky. Mysticism. M. Pope.

First Steps in Occultism. The Bhagavad Gita.

H. P. Blavatsky. Trans, by Annie Besant.

A Cry from Afar. At the Feet of the Master.

Mabel Collins. J. Krishnamurti.

Love's Chaplet. Mabel Collins. Light on the Path. Mabel Collins

A Crown of Asphodels. One Life, One Law. Mabel Collins
Helen Bourchier.

BOOKS ON THEOSOPHY AND SCIENCE

Theosophy and the New Psy- Nature's Finer Forces.

chology. Annie Besant. Rama Prasad.

The Physics of the Secret Doc- Theosophy and Modern Thought.

trine. William Kingsland. C. Jinarajadasa.

Scientific Corroborations of Theo- The Evolution of Life and Form.

Sophy. Dr. A. Marques. Annie Besant

BOOKS ON OCCULTISM

The Occult World. Thought Forms. Annie Besant

A. P. Sinnett. and C. W. Leadbeater.

Hints on Esoteric Theosophy. The Way of Initiation.

Anon. Dr. Rudolph Steiner.

Man Visible and Invisible. Initiation and its Results.

C. W. Leadbeater. Dr. Rudolph Steiner.

THEOSOPHY AND OCCULTISM IN FICTION

The Caves and Jungles of Hindo- The Tear and the Smile

Stan M. Charles

The Idyll of the White Lotus The Ways of Love

Mabel Collins E. Severs

The Lost Battle. Michael Wood.

THE RIDDLE OF LIFE SERIES

No. 1. The Riddle of Life :

and How Theosophy Answers it.

By Annie Besant.

(With four colored plates.)

No. 2. The Life After Death:

and How Theosophy Unveils it.
By C. W. Leadbeater.
(With four colored plates.)

No. 3. Theosophy and Social
Reconstruction.

By L. Haden Guest,

M.E.C.S., L.E.C.P.

No. 4. Theosophy and The

Woman's Movement.

By C. Despard

(With three Portraits.)

No. 5. Natures Mysteries :

and How Theosophy Illuminates Them.
By A. P. Sinnett.
(With three Hlustrations.)

No. 6. Is Theosophy Anti-Christian?

By G. Herbert Whyte.
(With Frontispiece.)

Each^ 25 Cents.

Works by

C. W. LEADBEATER

An Outline of Theosophy

The Astral Plane

The Devachanic Plane, or Heaven World

The Other Side of Death

Clairvoyance

Dreams

Invisible Helpers

Man, Visible and Invisible

(With 26 Colored Plates)

The Hidden Side of Things
Some Glimpses of Occultism
Starlight

The Inner Life Vol. I.
" " " .. Vol. 11.
The Christian Creed
A Text Book of Theosophy

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